Recipe for Treason Part 13

Instead she merely said, "What an unusual name you have."

"My father was a cla.s.sical scholar, with an expertise in Greek mythology," explained Lady Urania. "I am named after one of the Muses." Her eyes rolled. "I wish it had been Clio or Calliope. They are so much more cheerful. I mean, Rainnie sounds rather gloomy, does it not? It reminds me of the old nursery rhyme-rain, rain, go away."

Arianna smiled. "And you, Lord Canaday?"

"I, too, am saddled with a tongue-twisting ancient moniker," he answered wryly. "As you see, we have both chosen to shorten them into some semblance of English."

Before Arianna could inquire as to what that name was, the viscount was called away by a friend to answer a question about an upcoming auction of horses at Tattersall's. It was probably just as well, she decided. No doubt he had endured a great deal of teasing at school. Children could be cruel-sometimes more so than adults.

"Will you be attending the Mayfair Scientific Society meetings with Miss Kirtland?" inquired Lady Urania. "Our members are mostly female, but I think you will find that the lectures are not frivolous."

"I have not yet settled on how long I shall be staying in London," she replied evasively. "So I am not sure what my plans will be."

"Of course." Twisting the fringe of her shawl around her fingers, Lady Urania retreated into her brother's shadow. "Well, I mustn't keep you from meeting the other guests. I do hope we shall meet again."

"An odd pair," murmured Arianna, once they had rounded a display of potted palms. She paused beneath the gently swaying fronds, savoring the whisper of a breeze that stirred the overheated air.

"I suppose the same could be said for most people in this room," muttered Sophia. "Polite Society prefers females to be brainless widgets and men to be debauched wastrels."

"So aside from attending scientific lectures, you prefer the company of your cat to that of humans?"

"In general, yes," said Sophia somewhat testily. "But I thought you just asked about the Mortley siblings, not my personal proclivities."

"Please go on," said Arianna.

"Lady Urania is, as you see, very earnest, while Canaday is, shall we say, the livelier of the two."

"He seems pleasant. Is he well liked among his peers?"

Sophia gave the question careful consideration. "Quite," she answered. "As you see, he has an easy manner, a dry wit and an excellent mind when he chooses to be serious." Her lips pursed in thought. "He's very kind and protective of his sister."

"It sounds like I should cultivate an acquaintance with him and his sister. He appears to be well connected, and though she is quiet, his constant presence near her will provide me the opportunity to chat about the inst.i.tution and its members."

"I see that one does have to possess a devious mind to do this," mused Sophia.

Was that a deliberate barb, or merely a blunt observation? Arianna didn't know her companion well enough to decide.

"It's a matter a.n.a.lyzing the problem at a hand," she replied. "Solving questions of human nature is not all that different from solving conundrums in chemistry or mathematics."

Sophia's brow furrowed.

"One must use cold logic in both," she added. "So I prefer to see it as possessing an ability to be both rational and creative."

"Hmmm."

Again, the sound was impossible to interpret.

"I agree that Canaday may be useful, but he's only on the fringe of Davy's inner circle," said Sophia. "Come and meet Bartlett. He spins within its very center. As does Wrighthall, who's just joined him."

Willoughby, Lawrance, Chittenden, Canaday . . .

The new faces were already beginning to blur together. Squeezing her eyes shut, Arianna pressed her fingertips to her brow, trying to ease the ache pulsing against her skull.

"Lud, what a tangle," she muttered, pulling the brim of her tattered hat a little lower. The coming weeks were going to be a daunting challenge, what with the constant masquerades and the delicate dealings with Saybrook's elderly aunt and p.r.i.c.kly female friend.

"Somehow, I must dance along a razor's edge," she went on, wiggling through a hole in the alleyway fence. Dressed as a street urchin, she was making her way back home from the residence rented for the phantom Mrs. Greeley. "One tiny slip and the blade's bite could prove lethal."

As if I need a reminder of how dangerous a path lies ahead.

Ducking into the shadows of the mews, Arianna quickly made her way to the back entrance of the town house and slipped inside. The thought of Henning brooding over the murder of his nephew made her even more determined to keep her footing on the treacherous steel.

"What is that stench?" Saybrook put down his cup and turned around from the kitchen worktable as she entered.

"You don't want to know." She peeled off her filthy jacket and tossed it into one of the storage pantries. "The disgusting odor discourages anyone from getting too close."

The earl blew out a breath through his nose. "Wash your face. Then come have some of Bianca's spiced chocolate."

"That feels much better," she said a few minutes later, returning from the scullery in a clean shirt and freshly soaped skin. Shaking loose the pins from her tightly wound hair, she heaved a sigh and watched a curl of steam rise from the chocolate pot. "That smells ambrosial."

"How did it go?" asked Saybrook as he poured her a cup.

Like the rich brew, the question swirled with subtle nuances. Arianna took a sip before answering. "Quite well, all things considered."

Click, click, click. He stirred his drink, the silver spoon tapping softly against the fine porcelain.

"I'm glad that I had a chance to hear Willoughby speak, for I am now beginning to understand how science can have a magnetic effect on people. In addition, I made some interesting acquaintances at the reception and have an invitation to attend a soiree later this week, which many of Davy's inner circle are expected to attend." She went on to give a more detailed account of the lecture and reception.

Click, click, click. "No problems with Miss Kirtland?"

"None to speak of. She was a little nervous beforehand but carried off her role very well." Arianna tried to read his expression through the scrim of steam, but the hazy light and the dark fringe of his lashes made it impossible. "Is there a reason she is so skittish around men?"

Her husband pursed his lips. "I have the feeling that she's suffered a bitter disappointment at some point in her life. However, I have never asked."

"No? And yet, the two of you clearly have a friendship-" Arianna immediately regretted her words. They sounded so . . . shrewish. "But then," she quickly amended, "I am hardly one to talk about guarding intimate secrets from the past."

He shifted uncomfortably on his stool. "Arianna, Miss Kirtland and I meet to discuss science, not personal matters."

"I am merely trying to understand her," she responded tartly. "If we are to work together, we must know each other's strengths and weaknesses."

"I am aware of that." Saybrook expelled a long breath. "Trust me, I am no happier than you are over the fact that we've had to improvise and draw in new allies. I would much prefer to work alone, but we don't have that choice if we hope to unmask Renard before he creates mayhem."

He sounded tense, tired, and she felt a little guilty on realizing how much he must miss Henning. The two of them had been close comrades for years and had gone through many battles together.

"I'm sorry, Sandro," murmured Arianna, suddenly aware that her own relationship with the earl was the shortest of all. "I know how much you trust and value Basil's counsel. And his friendship." She waited a moment before going on. "Just as I know that it means we must not only trap Renard, but also learn the truth about why Basil's nephew was murdered. It won't bring the boy back, but it will allow the wound to heal in time. Uncertainty will only make it fester."

Saybrook took a long sip of his chocolate. "Yet another challenge to add to the list."

"I'm sorry," she repeated. "Trust me, I know that his absence makes things much more difficult for you."

"You are the one facing a greater challenge." He fixed her with a searching stare. "There are definitely dangers to working with a stranger-"

"I've discussed that with Miss Kirtland, and to give her credit, she is wise enough to see it. So we've agreed to address the problem."

"You have?" A wary note had crept into his voice.

"Don't sound so worried-we are not about to square off in a bout of fisticuffs or draw pistols at dawn."

Saybrook chuffed a harried laugh. "Thank G.o.d."

"We have arranged to meet for an early-morning walk in the park several days a week-it's perfectly respectable, so if anyone notices, it shouldn't stir any attention. In fact, we plan to begin tomorrow."

"As which female will you appear?" he inquired.

She smiled. "I did mull that over and decided to be myself. There is always the chance for making a mistake that might give away the masquerade, especially given the need to travel back and forth between residences. So I think it's prudent to limit Mrs. Greeley's appearances to scientific gatherings."

"You don't worry that Renard may grow suspicious on seeing Miss Kirtland friendly with both you and the newly arrived widow from America?"

"Now that Miss Kirtland has introduced me-that is, Mrs. Greeley-to the Royal Inst.i.tution, I don't really need her to be seen with me in public anymore. So the connection will appear slight."

Saybrook started to protest, but she waved him to silence and hurried on. "In battle, a general must always a.s.sess the risks and decide which is greater. I have an idea on how she may be more useful to us in another role."

He frowned.

"But I want to think it over a bit more before discussing it with you."

"Very well." He leaned forward, propping his elbows on the scarred oak planking. The lamplight flickered, catching the toffee-gold highlights in his dark eyes. "I trust that you will be careful and won't do anything to put yourself at greater risk."

"You have my promise on that."

A ripple stirred in the depth of his gaze. "Thank you."

She reached out to touch his cheek. "You've learned something-something that's put you on edge."

He nodded. "So far it's naught but vague bits and pieces of information that may or may not fit together as a whole."

"But if they do?"

"Then the danger to England-and indeed, to all of Europe-is beyond our wildest imagination."

Arianna felt a chill snake down her spine. "Good heavens, you are the most down-to-earth person I have ever met, Sandro. I confess, I am surprised that you are letting your fears fly away with you."

Saybrook gave an odd little laugh. "I a.s.sure you, I'm not." He drew in a deep breath, and she noted that his olive complexion had turned a little ashen in the uncertain light. "I've confirmed with a former comrade that Humphry Davy was working on developing a chemical explosive far more powerful than gunpowder for the British military. It was never fully developed for regular use, but the laboratory tests showed it to be terrifyingly effective."

"We suspected the existence of such a substance after what we discovered in Vienna," she pointed out. "And Girton's notes pointed at Davy and his followers. So the news shouldn't be a great shock."

"No, that part isn't."

A strange flutter stirred in her chest, as if b.u.t.terflies were beating their gossamer wings against the cage of her ribs. "You are beginning to frighten me."

"Good, because I confess that I am scared witless."

Arianna swallowed hard.

Saybrook's voice dropped to a taut whisper. "Earlier this afternoon, I heard some disturbing rumors about Sir George Cayley and a joint secret scientific project involving Davy. I was tempted to dismiss them as too far-fetched, but when I asked my former comrade, he admitted that the talk was true."

She could stand the suspense no longer. "What in the name of Lucifer is Cayley working on?"

"Lucifer is an apt expression," he replied darkly. "In addition to his other inventions, Cayley has been working on the designs for a flying machine. One that can be used to carry a powerful bomb and drop it on a specific target."

Her brows winged up. "That's absurd . . . isn't it?"

Saybrook lifted his shoulders, a gesture eloquent in its uncertainty.

"I mean, the French were quick to explore the use of balloons in warfare soon after the first manned flight, but I thought the air quickly leaked out of the idea." She thought for a moment. "I seem to recall that Napoleon formed a corps of aeronauts and took them with him on his Egyptian campaign in 1798. However, as the balloons were at the mercy of the winds and proved impossible to steer, they were abandoned as useless for military purposes, save for the occasional reconnaissance flight."

"Yes," he replied. "For a time at the turn of the century, the Royal Society, which as you remember is England's most prominent general scientific group, was worried that Napoleon was going to launch an airborne invasion of England. I believe it was the American Benjamin Franklin who warned that five thousand balloons, each carrying two soldiers, could transport an army of ten thousand across the Channel in a matter of hours. But when it became clear that balloons could not be controlled well enough, the threat seemed to die."

His long fingers began to drum softly on the wood. "You are right about Napoleon disbanding his Compagnie d'Aerostiers as impractical. Indeed, the public's fascination with balloon flight deflated over the years. The early launchings used to attract huge crowds-Lunardi, the first man to fly in England, drew over one hundred fifty thousand spectators to the Artillery Grounds in London, including the Prince of Wales. But these days, it's just a handful of scientists laboring in obscurity who keep experimenting with different types of gases and steering mechanisms for the inflatable behemoths."

"So what has changed?" she asked slowly.

A breath of air stirred the candle flame by the chocolate pot.

"Apparently Cayley's machine isn't a balloon . . ."

11.

From Lady Arianna's Chocolate Notebooks Blueberry Chocolate Tonic 2 cups cold blueberries 2 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder 11/3 cups cold almond or oat milk 2 teaspoons flaxseed oil 3 teaspoons honey 1. Place all the ingredients in a blender and blend on high for about 30 seconds.

2. Drink immediately or the pectin in the blueberry seeds will make a pudding rather quickly. For extra health benefits, add 1 teaspoon licorice root powder.

"You must remember to relax your hands, milady. Horses can sense when you are nervous, and it makes them skittish as well."

"Thank you, Jorge." Arianna loosened her grip on the reins and urged her mount through the entrance to the park. "I think I shall manage better now that we are off the streets." Fog swirled through the trees, obscuring the lawns and bridle paths in a sea of silvery mist.

"Would that I were seated on the teak taffrail of a schooner and not a dratted leather sidesaddle," she muttered under her breath. She had little riding experience and was worried that at any moment the jarring trot was going to bounce her off her precarious perch. "How embarra.s.sing if I were to land on my a.r.s.e in front of Miss Kirtland."

The groom came abreast of her and pointed out a mounted figure approaching at a canter. "Is that the lady you are meeting?"